Fitting Room
by somebody's world
Summary: In which Android 18 is bloodthirsty, her new admirer is clueless, and Krillin just wants everyone to get home in one piece. K/18.


**A/N:** Just some ridiculous K/18 post-Cell, pre-Buu shenanigans featuring an awkwardly convenient OC. T for swearing and innuendo. I tried to keep Krillin and 18 true to character, even in this humorfic, but may not have done such a great job for 18 (whom I will refer to at least here as "18" and not "Juuhachigou" because that is freaking long). Honestly, though, she has so little dialogue after the Cell saga that it's hard to tell what she turned out like. I'd like to believe she stayed independent and assertive but allowed Krillin to correct her behavior sometimes in social situations (farfetched, I know, but it could happen), so that's how I've staged things here.

Be on the lookout for more DBZ work from me because it's basically all I'm writing nowadays. Finally, after having watched the show only occasionally as a kid (shame on me!), I decided to sit down and watch all four Dragonball series and read the manga recently, and now I'm kind of obsessed. It's a shame that I waited until I was in my twenties and now it's old news to everyone else and no one wants to listen to me ramble about how wonderful this show everyone watched in the 90s is… but that's what fandoms are for, right? ;) I'm in the process of writing fanfiction for literally all the canon couples and, for some bizarre reason, Trunks/Pan and Goten/Bra. (I know the age gaps are horrendous, but still, I want them together. u-u) Sigh. There's just no hope for me.

**Disclaimer: **The following is a non-profit, fan-based [fanfiction]. Dragonball, Dragonball Z, and Dragonball GT are all owned by FUNimation, Toei Animation, Fuji TV, and Akira Toriyama. Please support the official release.

**Disclaimer #2:** The above disclaimer is obviously stolen from Team Four Star, but it's still applicable. :P Enjoy!

* * *

In the poor man's defense, he had no idea who or what he was up against.

Android 18 could be patient when - but mostly _if_ - she wanted to. The first glances she tolerated because she was in a good mood: on a shopping spree that was quickly draining Krillin of the remainder of the prize money he'd won at some small martial arts competition she'd pushed him into entering. "It'll pay for our date," she had reasoned, which had made his stomach flip twice: once at the mention of a date with 18, and once at the realization that somehow she was planning on spending 100,000 zeni all in one go.

And she was doing quite a good job of it so far, Krillin thought as she held up two long-sleeved tops, identical except in color, and compared them side by side in one of the dozen mirrors hung around the women's section. He couldn't remember its name, but they were in what had to be the world's most expensive designer store, and Krillin tried hard not to gasp as he caught a glimpse of a price tag when she casually flung both colored tops onto the very large pile he was already carrying.

"18," he said faintly, still in shock over the highest price tag he'd seen yet. "You can only have six pieces of clothing in the dressing room at a time, you know, and last time I counted, you had 37."

"And?" she prompted, scanning another rack without looking up at him.

"And… maybe you should try some on? You know, so you don't have to be overwhelmed all at once at the end."

She looked up at that and raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"I mean, I really want to see how that blue dress looks on you."

"That's better," she said with a smirk. She scanned the store for a fitting room sign and found one nearby. Krillin waddled after her, trying very hard not to drag any of the clothes on the ground.

18 rattled the doorknob of the nearest stall, but it wouldn't budge. "Damn thing's locked. Why the hell would they lock it?" she said, concentrating her ki into her palm.

"No!" Krillin objected just in time, holding out one hand to stop her and dropping several articles of clothing in the process. "Not here, 18! You just have to go get someone with a key to unlock it," he said as he quickly picked up the shirts.

"That's too much work."

"Well, hold your clothes and I'll do it then."

After a long pause and an even longer sigh, 18 reluctantly disappeared.

* * *

She was confronted immediately with another problem.

The man had very little going for him in the subtlety department. Whether that was intentional or a result of her superhuman observational skills was something 18 didn't know or care to find out.

"I know you're watching me," she said without turning around.

"So what if I am?" the man said rhetorically. His voice was cocky, and she knew without even looking that he was the same tall guy, the one with bright red-dyed hair that didn't seem to fit his plain face, who had been casually following her around the store for at least half an hour. 18 never forgot a face, even one she only caught glimpses of. And for this one, she decided, she had caught _more_ than enough glimpses for her liking.

"Stop," she said simply. The threat was implicit.

"I can go wherever I want," he pointed out, as if he would be walking through the lingerie department if he were on his own.

18 shrugged. "Whatever," she said dismissively, and he continued to follow behind her.

A moment later 18 approached a sales clerk who was busy re-shelving a t-shirt display the android had all but demolished earlier looking for her size. 18 didn't even give the poor girl a chance to ask what was wrong before demanding, "Why did you lock my dressing room?"

The sales clerk blinked. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. It's our policy to lock fitting room doors when they're not in use. I will gladly open it for you, though." The employee gave her best suck-up smile to the blonde-haired cyborg, but her politeness only earned her an irritated eye roll.

They made their way back to the fitting room, where Krillin sweated bullets as he listened to 18 bicker back and forth with the sales clerk. "I'm practically your only customer, and you're starting to make me angry. Isn't that bad customer service? Just let me take all the clothes in with me and leave me the hell alone."

Krillin sighed. He couldn't really blame 18 for her lack of people skills; after all, she had originally been programmed to kill some of the strongest warriors on the planet on sight. Really, she was doing well not to have smashed anything yet. But the fact remained that she was being rude and causing a scene again after she had told him she wouldn't, and he felt sorry for the poor sales clerk, who looked as if she were trying very hard not to cry. Krillin seemed to have a knack for calming 18 down, though smoothing things over with whatever poor soul 18 had decided to side against was always a bit trickier. And the clothes were getting _really_ heavy. He decided to go for it despite the very conceivable risk of setting off a full-blown temper tantrum.

"It's okay, Juu," he said in what he hoped would be a soothing manner. "Just hand your outfits out to me as you're done, and I'll hand you more." He shifted the stack in his grip, trying unsuccessfully to make eye contact with her over the top of the clothes.

"That's the stupidest thing -"

"18, _please_." The firm, exasperated note in his voice would have told anyone else that he meant business, but of course 18 could do what she wanted.

18 looked at Krillin like she was about to kill him, and he could _feel_ it even though he couldn't see it. Then, silently, she grabbed a handful of clothes off the top of the stack and slammed the fitting room door behind her. Krillin exhaled in relief, and the sales clerk mumbled weakly about being "nearby" if 18 needed her and walked off, not even bothering to ask how many articles of clothing had been in the angry woman's hand when she'd closed the door.

It took only seconds for Krillin's discomfort to return in a different way as he heard the sound of a zipper being unzipped and watched through the space under the door _(why is that even there?)_ as 18's denim skirt dropped to the floor. _Price tags,_ Krillin reminded himself as next she began to slide the tights down her legs. _Expensive clothes, limited money, having 18 pitch a fit at not being able to buy them all. Ending up in the hospital._

The shirt soon followed, and Krillin lost the ability to distract himself. He swallowed and moved so that the pile of designer clothes was blocking his view of her discarded garments, but that did nothing to stop the flow of images that were already swirling around in his head.

The mental striptease came to an abrupt halt when he heard the lock snap open a minute later. "Krillin, how does this look?"

"Everything looks good on you, 18," Krillin offered weakly, his brain still on autopilot. _Nothing looks good on you, too._

"I was asking about this outfit in _particular_, you moron."

Still unable to see over the mountain of clothing, Krillin shifted to the side and turned his head to look. "Sexy, especially those tits. Though I'd have gone with something shorter, you know, to really show off your ass."

Krillin's first horrific thought was that he should definitely have kept that comment to himself, but then he realized with enormous relief that he had yet to actually open his mouth. "You again?" 18 asked venomously, glaring at a figure that was now standing behind a stunned-looking Krillin.

"Just being truthful," the man said with a shrug. "You're welcome."

"Go be truthful somewhere else," 18 demanded, forgetting about Krillin's opinion entirely and deciding to scrap the outfit. She slammed the door so hard it rattled.

"Damn," the voice behind Krillin said as he watched a painting fall off the wall. "She's sure got an attitude."

Krillin scowled at the man. "Yeah, well, you would too if you were being followed by a pervert," he replied with disdain. "Why don't you follow her advice and go find another girl to stalk? This one's taken."

"But I don't wanna miss the fashion show," the man countered. "Besides, I can't have been the only one thinking that, am I right?" he said with a wink.

Krillin wasn't sure why this conversation was even still going, and he wanted it to end. Apparently so did 18 because she launched the outfit she had just been wearing over the top of the door, hitting the red-haired man in the face with much more force than two articles of clothing should have possessed under any circumstances. "More, Krillin," she barked, passing her hand underneath the door.

_Guess that's what that space is for,_ Krillin thought, blindly handing her another couple of hangers while desperately trying to ignore the discarded outfit on the floor and the fact that she was probably mostly naked right now. "Kick his ass if he doesn't leave in ten seconds," she instructed casually.

It was a generous warning by 18's standards, which was how Krillin knew she was serious.

The other man laughed, apparently not even thinking it worth his while to size Krillin up. "I could take him," the red-haired man decided. "_If_ he was man enough to face me."

There was hardly a second's pause before 18 opened the door to the fitting room in a hot rage. "Krillin is more man than you'll ever be, you bastard," she spat. The look on her face was murderous. Dread pooled in the pit of Krillin's stomach; 18 may not have been a very affectionate or romantic girlfriend, but she was fiercely protective of Krillin and would not allow anyone (besides herself, of course) to insult him. That added to the fact that she was already in a really bad mood and had had enough of her pursuer made for a very bad combination. Sensing the danger, Krillin finally threw the pile of clothes on the floor and moved between 18 and the redhead, who was belatedly beginning to show signs of discomfort at her rage.

"Calm down, blondie," the man whined, holding out upturned hands. "I'm just havin' a little fun. You're acting like you're gonna try to kill me or something." He snorted. "Nice undies, by the way."

18 glanced down at herself in horrified realization, then all hell broke loose.

* * *

"You know you shouldn't have done that," Krillin chided softly as they walked down the street together.

A long, frustrated sigh. "Ugh. Can we just _drop it _already?"

"No, 18, we can't. Now that you're…_ trying _to be an upstanding citizen, there are certain things you just can't _do_ in public, like knock some guy unconscious and leave him locked in a fitting room stall. You promised not to do anything like that again, remember?"

"I _promised_ nothing. I only said I would try not to break anything. And I didn't." She paused. "Except maybe one or two of his ribs."

"_18_, you know what I meant," Krillin said sulkily, his tone just shy of accusing. He allowed himself a small smile as he conceded, "But he _did_ kinda deserve it. Even though he was right - that first outfit made your boobs look amazing."

Instead of punching him in the arm like he'd expected her to do, 18 reached over. Krillin tried not to concentrate on the way her fingers felt against his thigh as she pulled the leather wallet out of his pocket. "How much money do you have left?"

"After paying for all this?" he specified, holding up the three large shopping bags he was struggling not to let drag on the ground. "About eight thousand zeni."

18 shot him a wicked grin. "Wanna rent a hotel room?"

Krillin returned the grin and nodded conspiratorially. He knew he wouldn't have enough to cover the damages, but even so, it was the best idea she'd had all day. Besides, he was dying for a chance to get her out of some of those clothes she'd just bought.

* * *

Love it? Hate it? Found a huge glaring flaw? I'll never know unless you review!


End file.
